We just finished dinner. My pasta was a bit too al dente, my salad a bit droopy, but we ate and grabbed the bag of chocolate chips. Then we headed for the TV and to our version of excitement: Antiques Roadshow.
But, heaven of heaven we were a little early for Antiques Roadshow and caught the end of a program on Pavarotti.
It seems most always our poor lives are gifted with so little of perfection; notes by Mozart, maybe, a painting by Cezanne, an old silk Kashan underfoot, and ahhhhhhhhhhhhh, there’s Pavarotti.
For a moment, we reveled in the purely sublime.